Just Ask Her to Dance
by Halunygin
Summary: Basically the title, or how one can indeed get the girl, if one is patient.


**A/N: For the Choose Your Wand Challenge, wand length is 13-14 in. Also sort of continuing the Drinny songfic challenge that I gave up on, but I used the song for inspiration. Best Song Ever by One Direction.**

 **I like this, but I also think I was more into the side pairing than the main one. Whoops!**

* * *

"You're staring at her again."

Draco blinked and gave the dark-haired girl beside him a glare.

"I was doing no such thing," he insisted. Pansy gave him a look of disbelief. "Really, I was watching Longbottom's pathetic excuse for ballroom dancing. It's not my fault _she's_ his date."

"Well, it kind of is," Blaise's voice added, the Italian popping out of nowhere, a drink in one hand and a blonde Slytherin third year in the other. "I mean, _you_ could've asked her. She was clearly desperate, she said yes to Longbottom, for Merlin's sake."

"No I couldn't have," Draco hissed, wishing Blaise's date would disappear. She was tugging on Blaise's arm.

"Come on, Blaise, let's dance," she whined. Blaise yanked his hand back.

"I don't dance, Emma."

"Elizabeth."

Blaise waved a hand. "Whatever, go touch up your makeup or something, just go away. Can't you see I'm talking to my friends?"

Elizabeth crossed her arms and pouted, stalking off.

"Hypothetically, even if I did like her and asked her to the ball, she wouldn't have said yes, and you know why?" Draco posed.

"Because your hair is always slicked back with gel?" Pansy offered.

"Because you wear lip gloss?" Blaise added.

Draco scowled and flicked them both. "Shut up! And I don't wear lip gloss, it's a balm to keep them from drying - you know what, forget it. She's a Gryffindor, and moreover, a Weasley, it would never work."

"But this is all hypothetical, correct?" Pansy smirked.

"You know, I didn't have to take you as my date, Parkinson, so a little gratitude would be appreciated," Draco snarled, a faint blush rising up his pale face.

"And I didn't have to say yes," Pansy countered. "But I made the mistake of pitying you and your lovesickness, and here we are."

"You know, she doesn't seem to be enjoying Longbottom's company very much," Blaise observed. "Actually, she looks like she's in a fair amount of pain from the mere sight of him."

"Really?" Draco brightened, craning his neck. He then stopped and cleared his throat. "Well, her own fault, right?"

"You're absolutely pathetic," Pansy groaned. "Look, none of her brothers are paying them a bit of attention, just cut in and ask her to dance."

Without waiting for an answer, she shoved him into the throe of dancing couples. He could easily see her and Neville, and, summoning all the Malfoy attitude he had, swaggered over to the pair. They were talking and laughing, and she didn't look like she was miserable at all. Occasionally, Neville stepped on her foot, and she winced, but overall, she seemed to be having fun, and Draco couldn't ask her to dance, she'd hex him, or worse, she'd say no and _then_ hex him. He backed away slowly, cursing his lack of courage.

* * *

"Draco? Hello, Earth to Malfoy?"

Draco shook his head, and the Christmas party came back into focus. Harry Potter was hosting it, and for some reason unbeknownst to the blond, he had invited everyone from their year, and more.

He rubbed his forehead. "Sorry, Pans, what were you saying?"

"I was complaining about how you never date anymore, but I guess I can see why," the dark-haired woman said loftily, following his gaze on a certain red haired woman. "Ten years, and you still haven't gotten over her?"

"It's not like I haven't tried, you know," Draco replied irritably. "It isn't easy when she works at the ministry and I have to see her stupid freckled face smile at me when I leave for lunch, asking how my day's been. You know I ate in my office for a full week to avoid her and she came by and asked if I was alright?"

"Concerned for your well-being, the audacity of some women," Pansy gasped, rolling her eyes and taking a swig of her firewhiskey.

She nearly choked when Draco nodded vehemently, her sarcasm going over his pale head.

"It's like she knows and she's trying to torture the truth out of me."

Pansy dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. "Or it's possible she likes you too, despite your glaringly obvious flaws, and she's trying to get through your thick skull."

"That's ridiculous," Draco shook his head.

"You're ridiculous," Pansy retorted with a growl. She sighed. "Listen, you're one of my closest friends, and even though I'd only admit it if there were a wand to my throat, I love you and if she makes you happy, I want you to go for it. And if she rejects you, I'll hex her six ways to Sunday."

Draco gave the dark-haired witch a half-smile. "Thanks, Pansy, but really, I don't think-"

"No, you chickened out last time, and if I have to shove you straight into her, I will," Pansy threatened, pinching his neck and driving him over to where Luna and the freckled redhead were conversing, before slinking back.

"I told the Minister that what he has is a simple Boxscape infestation, but he just looked at me in that weird way some people tend to do," Luna was saying, her pale blue eyes looking concerned for the head of their government.

The redhead laughed. "Oh, Luna, Kingsley just doesn't know you that well yet. We'll have lunch with him sometime soon, and you can explain more in depth about what Boxscapes are to him."

Draco cleared his throat, not just to get their attention, but also to clear the lump quickly forming in his throat.

Ginny Weasley turned around. "Draco," she said with small smile. "What's up?"

"Oh, um, no-nothing, I, er, was just-" he broke off, getting distracted by the shooing motions Luna was making around his head. "What are you doing, Lovegood?"

"You've got Wrackspurts," she replied cheerfully. "I would have let them be, but they're making you stammer and go red, which usually means you've got a bunch, so I thought I'd try to drive them away."

Draco's blush deepened at that, and even more so at Ginny's laugh. The redhead coughed.

"I'll take care of that, Luna, why don't you make sure George isn't spiking the punch with something vile?"

Luna nodded, skipping over to the drinks table. Ginny turned back toward Draco with a smirk.

"Sorry about that, you were saying?"

"I was going to ask you," he gulped. "If you wanted to dance."

A grin broke out across the freckled face and without replying, she grabbed his hand and pulled him into the small crowd of already dancing individuals.

"You know," she started, as they shifted back and forth. "I thought I was being too subtle."

Draco was too engrossed in the fact that he was actually dancing with her to fully grasp what she had said. "Huh?"

"I didn't want to weird you out," Ginny explained. "So I thought I'd start by trying to be your friend, but that seemed to weird you out more."

"I'm not following."

Ginny's smile faltered. "Oh no, was I wrong? You asked me to dance, so I thought-"

Draco's brain finally woke back up. "No, you were-"

"Ugh, I've made a total fool of myself!"

She kept babbling, and Draco couldn't get a word in edgewise. So he kissed her, and really, it was all for the best, as he highly doubted he'd have had the courage to do so without prompt.

Ginny's squeak of surprise was soon replaced by a noise of contentment as her arms went around his neck. She then broke it off, giggling at the pout adorning his pale face.

"So are you gonna ask me out or what?" she said with a light smirk. Draco smirked back, putting his forehead against hers.

"Will you have dinner with me sometime, Weasley?"

"If you call me by my first name, I'd love to," the redhead whispered, squealing with laughter as Draco spun her around and kissed the tip of her nose.

Pansy stood by the drinks table, surveying the dancing couple with only the slightest bit of jealousy. She was so engrossed, she didn't notice Blaise until he jabbed her in the back.

"What are you looking at?" He asked, and then his eyes popped at the sight of Draco and Ginny. "Whoa, when did that happen?"

"Ten minutes ago, no thanks to you," Pansy replied with a grumble, rubbing what she felt like was the beginnings of a bruise. "At least you're having fun. Where is Daphne, by the way?"

"Daphne's here?"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Have you really devolved to the point where you don't even remember bringing the date you ditch?"

"No," Blaise scoffed. "I just thought I brought her sister."

"You're hopeless, Zabini."

Blaise winked. "You love me."

Pansy did not want to admit that she flushed ever so slightly at that, even more so when Blaise grabbed her hand.

"Come on, let's dance."

"You don't dance," Pansy reminded him. Blaise, flashing a crooked smile that she hadn't seen in years, shrugged.

"For you I do."

No, Pansy was not melting, it was simply too hot in the room.


End file.
